


Sunstars

by MoonlightBreeze



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: (for about a line), Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Feels, Alec Lightwood Has Self-Worth Issues, Alec Lightwood Loves Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood Needs A Hug, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Good Sibling Isabelle Lightwood, Jia Penhallow is a Good Person, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, also just so you know, also the sun comes out in the night this one time because I said so, because Jia doesn't really know how to comfort, but in a way she kind of does, no beta we die like men, suicide attempt (mentioned), the moon is a sentient being in this fic and so are the stars and the sun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26039260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBreeze/pseuds/MoonlightBreeze
Summary: After the events of that fateful night on his balcony, Alec slips into a deep depression. Jia Penhallow isn't going to let her Inquisitor, the man who has inspired so much change, herfriend, slip through the cracks.Jia shows Alec his legacy - the things he's created, the love and tolerance he's sparked, the way that he is changing the world one Institute at a time. Jia reminds Alec who he is.Sequel toMoonstarsContains mentions of a past suicide attempt, brief suicidal thoughts, mentions of a minor character death (Magnus), and brief self-hatred.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Jia Penhallow, Alec Lightwood & himself, Isabelle Lightwood & Jia Penhallow
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	Sunstars

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! I'm back with the promised sequel to [Moonstars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25778353) and it is much easier on your hearts, complete with Jia being an amazing person to Alec and a happy ending. 
> 
> If you haven't read the first fic, I do recommend you do that in order for this fic to make sense! (Link can be found up there in this author's note and in the summary.) 
> 
> I honestly have no idea where this Jia & Alec relationship came from, but I have to admit that I love it a lot. I'm equal parts happy and disappointed to be the sole purveyor of the 'Jia Penhallow is a Good Person' tag. This might not be the last you see of this relationship in my works. 
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: This fic does contain references to Magnus's death, as is described in the first fic, Moonstars. If the breaking of Malec by death isn't something you want to read, I do not recommend reading Moonstars or this fic. 
> 
> That being said, I really hope you like this!! Kudos make my day and comments validate my existence, so please feel free to leave those, if you want :) And as always, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
> 
> ~ Em

Jia wasn’t sure what the parameters of recovering from a suicide attempt were, but with Shadowhunter healing runes and the best paramedics in Idris on his case, she knew that Alec Lightwood had long since healed enough to get back to work. 

He’d been off for a week, much longer than Jia would have let anyone else stay in the infirmary, especially after it was clear that they were physically fine. She’d broached the subject to Jace and Isabelle tentatively, posing as a concerned friend and not an impatient boss, and she’d received word that Alec had steadfastly refused to return to his apartment.

Considering all of the memories it now housed, Jia couldn’t say she blamed him. 

Still, the issue remained - suicide attempt or no suicide attempt, Alec had responsiblities. His duties as the Inquisitor weren’t going to wait for him to feel better. Jia almost felt cruel for those thoughts, but she knew they were true, no matter how harsh they were.

On the third day of his second week away from the office, Jia picked up her phone and called Isabelle. 

“New York Institute, Isabelle Lightwood speaking - ”

“It’s Alec,” Jia cut her off, jumping straight in with her concerns. “He’s been in the infirmary for two weeks. What exactly is being done to help his recovery?” She knew she was being harsh, but she wasn’t accustomed to doing the work of a Consul _and_ anInquisitor. In addition to that, underneath the shield that her training and childhood provided her, Jia was worried about Alec. He was a good person, kind, courageous, and dedicated to his cause. She might even, only in the privacy of her own thoughts, consider him a friend. 

She didn’t want to watch him wither away, not if there was anything she could do about it. 

Isabelle sighed, long and heavy, over the line. “He won’t talk to us,” she admitted. “Jace and I visit him every other day, and he just lays there and listens. He doesn’t speak. He won’t even answer the professional questions we’ve asked him, like how the Alicante Downworld Cabinet is going and if he thinks he’ll be Consul once you retire.” She swallowed audibly, and Jia could hear the tears in her voice as she said, “He’s usually so excited to talk about that. This was his dream.”

The unspoken words hung heavy in the air: _This was his dream before the man he loved left him alone._

“What can we do?” Jia asked. 

Isabelle made a sound of surprise. 

“What?” Jia said. 

“I didn’t think you cared,” Isabelle admitted hollowly. “I thought you just saved him because he’s your Inquisitor.”

Jia stiffened and grit out, “I told you I was concerned about him when we spoke the other day.”

“Yes, you made a speech about how he’s your friend and you couldn’t stand to see him hurting,” Isabelle replied, her voice dry. “Save it for the theater.”

Jia winced. Isabelle was right, of course; ordinarily she wouldn’t have given the Shadowhunter a second glance, would have replaced him the second it seemed he was unfit for duty. Truthfully, every bone in Jia’s body ached to fire Alec on sight and hire someone who was capable of doing their job. 

But her heart, her morals, her conscience - whatever she wanted to call it - wouldn’t let her. She did care about Alec, and that was a frightening fact. 

“I just want to help him recover,” Jia said stiffly. “I need my Inquisitor around in the office, and my kids are dying to meet him.”

Isabelle sighed, and Jia could practically hear the wheels turning in her mind. Finally, she heard the younger woman take a deep breath, and she sat down in her office chair, bracing for the worst news possible about Alec’s condition. 

“To be perfectly honest with you, I don’t think he wants to get better,” Isabelle admitted, and the low tremor in her voice gave away the torment she felt at that confession. She cleared her throat as if bracing herself for something and said, “Consul, it’s my opinion as his sister and one of the closest people in the world to him that if you send Alec home right now, he’s going to try this again, and there won’t be any room left for failure this time.”

Jia took a deep breath. “Okay. Thank you for letting me know, Isabelle.”

The line fell silent for a few seconds before Isabelle asked, in a quieter voice than Jia had ever heard her speak in, “What am I going to do?”

“What are _we_ going to do,” Jia replied without stopping to think. An unfamiliar feeling - affection, care, _acceptance_ \- churned in her stomach, almost throwing her off. But she soldiered on, shoving her own inner turmoil to the side for the time being. “You are not alone in this, Isabelle. I care for your brother, too. I don’t want to see him suffering.”

Isabelle let out a strangled sound of disbelief and started to say something, but Jia cut her off. “Think about it. If this had been any other Inquisitor, would he still have a job?”

Isabelle paused. Jia could tell that her words had rung true. She breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe now the youngest Lightwood sibling would trust her. 

“Okay, so what _are_ we going to do?” Isabelle asked. Her voice was sad and weary, and it made Jia’s heart clench.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’ll think of something. I am not giving up on Alec.”

“We aren’t, either.”

With that, Jia hung up the phone and placed it back in its carriage, clasping her hands together tightly in her lap. She had to _think_. She would need to figure out something soon, or Alec Lightwood was as good as gone. 

It took Jia two days to come up with a plan, and another day after that to make sure that she could execute it. After several trying phone calls to a few different Institutes, price negotiations with an avaricious warlock that left her frustrated and peeved, and a few surly recruits that threw her a choice finger behind her back when she handed off her workload to them for the day, Jia was ready to pick up Alec and put her plan into motion.

Jia walked into the infirmary early Saturday morning, carrying a change of clothes and Alec’s stele, which she’d picked up from his loft. She didn’t bother knocking; instead, she strode right up to Alec’s bedside and shook him awake none too kindly. She was afraid that if she tried to treat Alec like a porcelain doll, he might shatter under his hatred for her carefulness alone. 

“It’s time to wake up,” she declared. He groaned, blinking rapidly to adjust to the bright white lights of the infirmary. When he recognised her, his shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes again. Jia didn’t miss the way pink dusted his cheeks, and she realised with a start that this was the first time she’d been in the infirmary while he was awake since that night. 

She almost opened her mouth to say something, anything, that could reassure him that she didn’t think any less of him, but she thought better of it and instead tossed his clothes at him. 

“Get dressed,” she ordered. “We’re going to see some Clave officials today.”

Alec didn’t respond.

Jia narrowed her eyes. Perhaps it was time to get a little less forceful and a little more stubborn. 

She pulled up a chair and perched it right next to Alec’s bedside. Alec opened his eyes and watched curiously when he heard the noise, and he gave her an angry look when she sat down in it, looking for all the world like a woman that could not be moved. 

In a way, Jia mused to herself, she _couldn’t_ be moved. 

For a few long minutes, Alec didn’t say anything. The two engaged in a heated staring contest, Alec glaring daggers, and Jia calmly refusing to give an inch. After about five minutes of silence, Alec broke. 

“Go away.”

“No,” Jia stated simply. “We have Clave officials to see today.”

“Well, tell them to fuck off,” Alec muttered. Jia tried hard not to wince at the swear. She normally allowed her staff to swear - because if she didn’t, she could easily be labeled a hypocrite - but _Alec_ swearing was unexpected and surreal. 

“I won’t and neither will you,” Jia replied. “Get up.”

“No.”

“Get up, Alec. I have something to show you.” This piqued Alec’s interest, she could tell. She kept her expression impassive with some difficulty, fighting back the urge to smirk. She had him now. 

“I don’t care,” Alec tried, but it was weak and they both knew it. 

Consul Penhallow did not take time out of her workday to show her Inquisitor something, and she knew that Alec knew this. He was curious. Jia would swear by her own children’s lives that, no matter the circumstances, there would never come a day when Alec Lightwood wasn’t at least offhandedly intrigued by something like this, by some facet of behaviour that was different than the norm. He noticed everything, even when he tried to pretend he didn’t, and Jia knew that the part of his mind that hadn’t succumbed to the grief was curious. Buried somewhere deep inside of him, he was curious. 

Alec opened his mouth to say something, perhaps give one final protest, but Jia cut him off with a steely glare. She wasn’t playing games. 

“Put them on,” she ordered Alec, gesturing to the pile of clothes at the foot of his bed. Alec looked at them, up at her, back at them, and up to her again. He bit his lip, hard, and Jia tried to ignore the way blood pooled in the little incision made by his teeth. She knew she had to pick her battles. 

Alec reached for the clothes, and Jia could have shouted her victory to the rooftops. Instead, ever the professional, she strode out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her to give him some privacy. 

Outside, Jia leaned against the door to the infirmary and exhaled deeply. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but seeing Alec with that dead, hopeless look in his eyes was something she was sure not to forget. 

Jia couldn’t remember when she’d become aware of Alec Lightwood - she thought it might have had something to do with Aline, and the way her daughter talked about him - but from the instant she met him to right now, as she waited outside of the infirmary to help him recover from a suicide attempt, she was impressed with him. She was impressed with his charm, his determination, his courage and his unapologetic manner when it came to doing the right thing. He fought hard for what he believed in and Jia had to admire that. 

A sharp knock sounded on the door to the infirmary, and Jia swung it open without pause. Alec stepped out, dressed in the clothes she’d left for him. She was a little disappointed to see that his hair was still unruly and wild, as if he hadn’t brushed it at all. Again, she opted not to say anything. _Battles,_ she reminded herself. _Pick your battles._

“We’re portaling to Madrid first,” Jia informed him crisply. She gestured to the warlock, who was waiting down the hall for instructions, and made a gesture with her hands to mean that he was to open a portal. 

The portal whorled into existence before them, and Jia took Alec’s arm in her own. They both stepped through and onto the front steps of the Madrid Institute. 

“Bienvenida, Señora Penhallow!” greeted the Head of the Institute. “¿Cómo estás?” 

“Muy bien, gracias,” Jia replied, shaking the man’s hand and offering him a brief smile. “¿Podemos ver a las aprendices ahora?”

“Of course!” Jia was secretly grateful when the Head switched to English, no doubt for hers and Alec’s benefit. Her Spanish was impeccable, but there was nothing more comforting than her native tongue. 

The Head began to lead Alec and Jia inside. Alec was paying close attention to his surroundings, Jia noticed, even though he’d been in this very Institute many times before. She understood why. He wanted to know where she was taking him. 

“Here they are,” the Head of the Institute said proudly. He gestured to the training room, where Jia could see several young Shadowhunters training with each other, with instructors, and with _Downworlders_. She turned to Alec, unable to keep the smile off of her face as she waited for his reaction. 

Alec stood stock-still, staring into the plateglass window. New Shadowhunters, most bearing only a few runes, were scattered around the training room. They held staffs, bows, blades - the weapons were so varied that Alec had to blink rapidly for a second to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. 

This wasn’t how lessons worked. 

Alec remembered training. He remembered that they were separated into lessons based on weapons choice and skill. He remembered being the only Shadowhunter who trained in archery, and he remembered his instructor, his father (because the Institute didn’t have an archer on site to train Alec), pushing him further than any 12 year-old was capable of. 

Alec had never trained with other Shadowhunters when he wielded his bow. Alec had never trained with so _many_ Shadowhunters; only Izzy and Jace. And he had certainly never trained with Downworlders. 

“When did this happen?” he breathed quietly in awe. 

Jia allowed herself a small smile as she watched the scene unfolding before them in the training room. “A few weeks ago. The Downworld Cabinet was going to tell you at the next meeting, but then…” She trailed off, feeling inexplicably furious with herself. She had no reason to be; The whole point of bringing Alec here was to make him see what he’d created, remind him how much he’d changed the Shadow World for the better. It wouldn’t do either of them any good to dance around the topic. 

Alec’s face fell, not to Jia’s surprise, but it still sent a shot of pain through her heart to see that empty look return to his eyes. 

“Come on,” she called to Alec. “There’s more to see.”

Alec looked like he wanted to protest, but one look at the young Shadowhunters in the training room had him following after Jia reluctantly. 

Maybe it was her imagination, but Jia thought she saw a little bit more of a bounce to Alec’s steps. 

Jia navigated her way to the Madrid Institute’s meeting room with ease, and she let herself and Alec in soundlessly. They took up places on the wall next to the fireplace and watched the proceedings unfold. Alec gave her a look that clearly meant, ‘What are we doing here?’ but Jia fixed him with a stern glare and turned her attention back to the center of the room. 

The Head of the Institute and several other Shadowhunters sat in a semi-circle around the large table in the center of the room, and they were joined by several Downworlders. Alec recognised Seelie markings, the flash of fangs, and a hint of bright, animalistic green in several members’ eyes. What was most surprising of all, however, was the warlocks. Their marks were on display. Horns sprouted from heads, brightly coloured skin was unglamoured, and spiky lizard tongues weren’t covered at all. 

Alec _stared_. 

“What meeting is this?” he whispered to Jia, trying to be quiet. 

“This isn’t a meeting, per se,” the Head of the Institute replied, obviously having heard him. “We like to get together and play poker once a week. We switch off weeks. Last week we went to Alverez’s bar, this week we’re here.” 

His answer did nothing to clarify the situation for Alec, who was still reeling over the Shadowhunter trainees being allowed to train with each other, with Downworlders. 

A knock on the door shattered the laughter in the air, but no one’s smiles dimmed, Alec noticed. “Come in!” the Head shouted. The door flew open and a little girl ran inside, climbing into one of the Shadowhunters’ laps. Alec made a high-pitched, squeaking noise in the back of his throat. She wasn’t runed. She had abnormally large feet and wavy brown hair that matched that of a warlock’s a few seats over. This child was a _warlock_. And she’d just climbed into a Shadowhunter’s lap like that was normal, like it was something she was used to. 

Alec felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to cry. He cursed himself as tears pricked his eyelids. He hadn’t dared to hope for this kind of progression in the Shadow World. He hadn’t dared to think that they might find other Institutes and other countries even more receptive to change that he’d expected. He hadn’t dared to _dream_ about this kind of acceptance, tolerance, _love_ \- and now it was here, it was happening, it was _real_.

Alec’s dream was alive. 

Jia chanced a glance at Alec, and she couldn’t help the smile that broke out on her face when she saw the expression he wore. He looked dazed, awed, _happy_. It was all she’d wanted to see. She grabbed his arm and led him out of the meeting room, leaving the Shadowhunters and Downworlders to their poker night. 

On their way out of the Institute, they encountered even more evidence of the integration between Shadowhunters and the Downworlders they’d once thought it fun to hunt. A plaque hung on the wall, honoring the High Warlock of Madrid for over 20 years of exceptional service to the Madrid Institute. Other commendations and notices lined the walls, all filled with mentions of Downworlders saving Shadowhunters or assisting in an important investigation or helping to make history in some way. 

Alec couldn’t believe his eyes. 

Jia was used to this, of course; it wasn’t the first time she’d been to the Madrid Institute since they’d started becoming more progressive. In fact, it wasn’t even the first time she’d seen the Head play poker with the Downworlders in the meeting room. Despite this, it still managed to shock and amaze her every time she saw another piece of evidence that pointed to Alec’s influence. 

She was reminded rather violently of something Isabelle had once said to her when she was considering opening the position of High Warlock of Alicante so that Alec would feel more comfortable moving to Alicante and becoming her Inquisitor. 

Isabelle had said, “He loved one man so much, he changed the world for him.”

Jia was embarrassed to admit that tears burned the back of her eyelids at the memory of those words. It was true. Alec Lightwood had loved Magnus so much, been so determined to make the world a better place for his husband. It was nothing short of heroic, and Jia was not going to let Magnus’s death stop Alec from continuing the work he was doing. 

By the time they portaled back to the Institute, Alec was silent again. Jia peered worriedly at him, but he didn’t look empty or drained; he looked conflicted, contemplative. Jia decided to leave him to it. She didn’t take him back to the infirmary, but instead walked him to her office and told him to sit on the sofa while she finished up some paperwork. 

Truth be told, Jia didn’t have any paperwork to speak of. But she wasn’t going to take Alec back to the infirmary; she was smart enough to know that the bright white walls that smelled like cleaning supplies would make Alec fall even deeper into his depression. She wasn’t willing to take that chance. 

It was half past midnight when Jia threw her pen down and stretched, shaking Alec to wake him up where he’d fallen asleep on the couch. He was sleepily disoriented for a few minutes before he seemed to regain some awareness and stared at Jia in confusion. “Why am I here?”

“You’re staying with me tonight,” Jia said firmly, leaving no room for discussion. “I have a guest bedroom and Aline will be thrilled to see you again. My other children have been wanting to meet you, as well.”

Alec cringed. “Consul Penhallow, I don’t think that I - ”

“Stop,” Jia said, cutting him off. “This isn’t up for debate.” She hesitated for a second and softened her tone. “Look, Alec, you’re the best Inquisitor I’ve ever had. You’re determined, you’re opinionated, you’re idealistic. You know what you want and you’ll stop at nothing to get it. I need people like you in my office. I won’t lose you, Alec Lightwood. Not after all the change you’ve created.”

Alec swallowed hard. Jia couldn’t be sure in the darkness of her office, but it looked like his eyes had misted over. “Why do you care?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. And then, before she could reply, he continued on, gaining more and more fire as he spoke: “I’m just a pawn in your political game, aren’t I? You want me around because I make you look good. You’re keeping me here so I can change things and you can take all of the credit with the Clave. Don’t lie to me.” He laughed bitterly. “I grew up with politics, don’t forget. I know your game. Don’t give me some ‘I need you here’ bullshit. That’s exactly what it is; bullshit.” He glared at her, and Jia felt like shouting with joy. This was the most alive she had seen Alec look in a very, very long time. 

“That’s true,” Jia admitted. “You’re right, Alec, all of that is probably true. You’re good for me, good for my reputation, and I certainly don’t mind reaping the benefits of the leaps and bounds you take to unite the Shadow World.” Alec stared at her in surprise, and she shrugged. “What? You know I’m an honest person, Alec.”

Alec smiled, a little half-smile that barely turned the corners of his mouth up, but it was enough for Jia, who beamed widely back at him. “I mean, yeah, but I always thought you were honest to a fault.”

Jia grinned ruefully at him. “Well, I am. With the Clave. Not so much with my Inquisitor.” Alec managed to give her another weak half-smile at this. It wasn’t much, Jia thought, but it was more than she had that morning, and she would take it. 

“You know I do care about you, right?” Jia asked Alec. “I mean, I know it may seem like I’m just doing all of this because I’m your boss and your career is important to mine, but I do care about you. I admire the work you’ve done and I…” She trailed off and took a deep breath. It was now or never. “I consider you a friend.”

Alec smiled at her, a real, genuine smile that made Jia’s heart warm. “I consider you a friend, too.”

“Will you please stay with us?” Jia asked him. “Just until you’re better?” She immediately regretted her choice of words when she saw the hint of bitter anger flash in Alec’s eyes. 

“I’ll never be better,” he mumbled. “The man I love is dead.” He said it with no emotion, and it made Jia feel like she was listening to a recording of someone speaking through a hollow tunnel. 

“The man you love lives on inside of you,” Jia insisted, pressing a firm hand to Alec’s chest. Alec shook his head, moved away, stepped out of reach of her outstretched hand. Jia followed him, unwilling to let Alec run away from this conversation. “He is not gone, Alec.” Alec shook his head more forcefully than before, tripping over the edge of the couch in his haste to get away from her words. “Alec, Magnus wouldn’t want this,” Jia declared, her voice rising with the tide of her emotions. “Magnus would want you to be happy.”

“Well, maybe I can’t be!” Alec shouted. His eyes were wild and full of so much sorrow that Jia suddenly thought she might understand why he’d jumped off of his balcony in the dead of night. “Maybe I can’t be happy without Magnus, maybe I haven't been happy for the last seven years, maybe I can never, _ever_ , be happy again!” 

“I don’t think that’s true,” Jia replied calmly. This only seemed to anger Alec further. 

“How the hell would you know?” he shouted. “You’ve never lost someone! You’ve never - ”

“I almost did,” Jia cut in, and it was enough to make Alec pause in his tirade. His hands, though still clenched into fists at his sides, relaxed almost imperceptibly. She took it as the sign to continue that it was, and began to speak again. “I almost lost my daughter the same way you almost left everyone that cares about you.” Her words were blunt and not without some harsh implications, but she knew that Alec knew what he’d done. He knew he’d hurt his family, even if he wanted to believe that they would be better off without him. 

“What do you mean?” Alec ventured carefully. “You can’t mean Aline.”

“Oh, but I do,” Jia replied. “You know she’s a lesbian, right?” She patted herself on the back internally for not faltering over the word.

Alec nodded slowly, memories of a summer when they were kids, of ice creams and secrets and Aline revealing that she and her friend were more than friends returning to him in a flash. 

“Well, Alicante is not the greatest place to be so different,” Jia said softly. “Aline assumed I was no different from the rest of the Clave.” Alec nodded, encouraging her to go on. Jia took a deep breath and forced herself to admit, “She was so afraid of telling me that she took a blade to her arms instead.”

Alec’s eyes widened and his mouth formed an involuntary ‘O’ shape as he took in this new information. Jia sighed. She hated talking about what had almost happened to her daughter, but she needed Alec to know why she was so determined to stop him from going down the same path. 

“I didn’t know, for the longest time,” Jia continued. “For years, she hid it from me. From everyone. No one notices a few more iratze scars than usual on a Shadowhunter.” She laughed bitterly, choking on the idea (fact) that she had a significant hand in what was almost the end of Aline’s life. “I realised what she’d been doing when I found her in the bathtub one day. She was passed out, barely breathing, and covered in blood. She’d tried to kill herself. She even threw her stele away.” Jia’s eyes glazed over at the memory. “I had to use my own. I must have made six or seven iratzes by the time she woke up.” She shuddered and stared out the picture window in her office. “Anyway, I know it’s not the same, but I almost lost someone.” 

Alec opened his mouth to say something, but Jia raised a hand, signaling for him to wait. “I almost lost someone the way I almost lost you,” Jia explained, and her voice was finally as soft as she knew Isabelle would have wanted. Part of her wanted to berate herself for that. 

It dawned on Alec what she was trying to say, and he turned away from her. He knew she was right. Magnus or no Magnus, he still had people that cared about him. They made that known every day. Jace, Izzy, Max, his mother - the list went on and on. Alec felt his eyes fill with tears. He _knew_ that they cared about him, knew they’d be just as devastated and heartbroken as he was now, without Magnus. But the other, uglier side of Alec’s mind whispered that he didn’t deserve them, that they could find someone who would be so much better, and that he would be doing them all a favour if he just - _BANG!_ ended it all. 

The two conflicting sides that lived in Alec’s mind were constantly at war, and Alec was tired of hearing the cannon fodder and the people he’d accidentally hurt screaming in the darkness. 

Alec looked up at Jia and bit his lip, hesitating. He knew one thing for sure; he couldn’t go back to the loft. Not now, maybe not ever. He didn’t want to move back to New York. He didn’t want his own place, where he would be alone with the war in his mind at all times. Staying with Jia was the best option for him, and he knew it. 

Alec stepped forward and reluctantly took Jia’s outstretched arm, allowing her to guide him outside and towards her house. 

The instant they stepped outside, the cool night air hit Alec right in the face, and he stumbled and nearly fell. He hadn’t felt that in two weeks, and Alec was terrified by how much he’d missed it. He heard the moon and the stars begin to whisper the instant they noticed he was close to them for the first time in too long. 

Alec closed his eyes and let the feeling of the night sweep over him, sinking into his bones and filling his heart in a way that he hadn’t thought he would experience again. 

For a few blissful seconds, before Alec and Jia walked into her house and he was back in the same song-and-dance routine of pretending he was okay, that all of this was normal and fine, Alec felt as though all of the elements were surrounding him at once. 

Alec was familiar only with the moon’s cool brush of silver and the stars’ comforting presence. Something else entirely, something warm and almost suffocating but in a way that made Alec feel like he might be able to run and dance again someday, wrapped itself around Alec as they made their way towards Jia’s house. 

It took Alec an embarrassingly long time to realise that the unknown presence was what he’d been hearing about from the moon on his balcony for years. 

It was the sun. 

Alec didn’t know how the sun was free from the constraints that bound it to the daytime, but he knew that it was as rare as his ability to speak with the moon. When the aforementioned moon winked at him, Alec felt a shadow of a smile cross his lips. _Of course._ The moon was giving him a gift. It was apologising for how little it could do to ease Alec’s pain in the only way it knew how. 

_Here comes the sun_ , Alec thought, and he felt lighter than he had in a very long time. He closed his eyes and let the impossible sunlight wash over him. He remembered his mother singing that song to him at night when he was younger. Sometimes he thought that she might have known, in the way that a mother just _knows_ , that he was different. That he was hiding and afraid and unhappy. He opened his eyes to stare at the night sky once more. It was beautiful. 

Alec realised the gravity of his thought a moment later.

_Beautiful._

It was beautiful. 

Things could still be beautiful. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Stalk me on Tumblr](http://moonlight-breeze-44.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Prompts are open!
> 
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